The problem with accents!

[observer]

Vy nodt
It was a hot day in Wisconsin . Helga hung the wash
out to dry and then went into town to pick up her dry
cleaning. "Gootness, its hotter den hell today," she mused
to herself as she walked down Main Street .

She passed a tavern and thought to herself, "Vy nodt."
She walked in and quietly took a seat at the end of the bar.

The bartender walked up to her and said, "And what
would you like to drink today?"

"Vell Ya know," Helga said in a timid voice, "I don't
usually go into da bars, but today I vill make an exception.
It iss zo hot, I tink I vill have myself a beer."

The bartender smiled at Helga and asked, "Anheuser
Busch?"

Helga blushed and said; "Vell, it's fine tanks, und
how's yur viener?"

[observer]

Ahhhhh��the wisdom of the ages.

A female CNN journalist heard about a very old Jewish man who had been going to the Western Wall to pray, twice a day, every day, for a long, long time.


So she went to check it out. She went to the Western Wall and there he was, walking slowly up to the holy site.


She watched him pray and after about 45 minutes, when he turned to leave, using a cane and moving very slowly, she approached him for an interview.


"Pardon me, sir, I'm Rebecca Smith from CNN. What's your name?


"Morris Feinberg," he replied.


"Sir, how long have you been coming to the Western Wall and praying?"

"For about 60 years."


"60 years! That's amazing! What do you pray for?"


"I pray for peace between the Christians, Jews and the Muslims."


"I pray for all the wars and all the hatred to stop."


"I pray for all our children to grow up safely as responsible adults and to love their fellow man."


"I pray that politicians tell us the truth and put the interests of the people ahead of their own interests."

And finally "I pray that everyone will be happy".

"How do you feel after doing this for 60 years?"

"Like I'm just talking to a wall"

[retired2]

Father Son talk
A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father, “Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?” The father, surprised, answers, “Well, son,... a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, a woman’s breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s and 40s, they are like pears, still nice, hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions.” “Onions?” the son asks. “Yes. You see them and they make you cry.” This infuriated his wife and daughter. The daughter asks, “Mom, how many different kinds of willies are there?” The mother smiles and says, “Well, dear, a man goes through three phases also. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it’s like a Christmas tree.” “A Christmas tree?” the daughter asks. “Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.”

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